#gaunt

[trappezoider]

For @waywardprintmaker<3 Ominis tells the twins about the Cruciatus-incident.

[meizze-art]

🔎My 🐦X: @Meizze_art

Noctua Gaunt : "How about now, can you see any shapes, my sunshine?"

Ominis : "I can see now, auntie! I can see!"

[riddleswhcre]

Hi bub!!!

I was thinking experienced!reader X inexperienced!Ominis who secretly (pretty obviously actually) has a crush on her. When she then catches him in the undercroft touching himself while whispering her name, she decides to help him…

warnings: smut, handjob, inexperienced!ominis x experienced!reader.

more

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: ehehehe mar... i had so much fun writing this for you pookie! i hope you enjoy my first time writing ominis and i hope it's good!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

the quiet corridors of hogwarts carried an eerie stillness after dark, and the undercroft—hidden away from the prying eyes of the castle’s inhabitants—was a sanctuary that few knew existed. it was your sanctuary, a secret haven where you could gather your thoughts, away from the whispers and mundane chatter of daily life. recently, however, you’d noticed that someone else had taken to retreating here. ominis gaunt.

ominis had always intrigued you. he was reserved, with an air of refinement that stood out amidst the chaos of your peers. his pale eyes, though sightless, seemed to see through to one’s very soul. and though his demeanour was often stoic, you’d caught moments when he faltered in your presence—a slight flush of his cheeks, the way his hands fidgeted with his wand, or how his lips parted as if to speak only to close them again.

tonight, curiosity had brought you here earlier than usual, your steps light and deliberate as you descended into the secret chamber. you’d expected to find solitude but instead were met with a sound that made you pause mid-step. a low, muffled groan drifted from the corner of the room, a sound so intimate it made your breath catch. you stepped closer, heart pounding, and the sight before you rendered you motionless.

ominis stood near the stone wall, his back turned to you, one hand braced against the cool surface. the other hand moved with a rhythm that left no room for misunderstanding. his head was bowed, pale strands of hair sticking to his forehead as he whispered—your name. the sound of it, so soft yet laced with yearning, sent a shiver coursing through you. he hadn’t noticed your presence, too lost in his own world of desire.

your first instinct was to retreat, to give him privacy, but something rooted you in place. it wasn’t just the sight of him—vulnerable and utterly entranced—but the realisation that this carefully composed young man, who always seemed so composed and aloof, had been harbouring thoughts of you. it was intoxicating.

“ominis,” you called softly, your voice cutting through the silence.

he froze. his movements stilled, and his head whipped around in your direction, face pale with horror. “i… i didn’t hear you come in,” he stammered, his voice shaking as he adjusted his robes hastily, his hands trembling. “i… i didn’t mean…”

“it’s alright,” you said, stepping closer, your tone calm and deliberate. “you don’t need to explain anything.”

his lips parted, but no words came. his face was a mix of mortification and desperation, his pale cheeks flushed a deep crimson. you stopped a few steps away from him, giving him enough space to breathe but close enough that he could feel your presence.

“ominis,” you murmured, your voice softer now, almost coaxing. “you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?”

“i… yes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. his head bowed, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. “i’m sorry. i… shouldn’t have…”

“don’t apologise,” you interrupted gently, closing the distance between you. your hand reached out, brushing against his arm, and he flinched at the contact before stilling. “it’s alright, ominis. you don’t have to hide how you feel.”

his breath hitched, his sightless eyes turning in your direction as if trying to read your expression. you stepped closer still, your hand trailing up his arm to rest against his chest. his heart thundered beneath your palm, its rapid rhythm betraying his nervous anticipation.

“let me help you,” you offered, your voice low and inviting.

his lips parted in shock, his head shaking slightly. “you don’t have to…”

“i want to,” you assured him, your hand slipping to take hold of his. you guided him to sit on the edge of the cold stone bench, your movements deliberate yet gentle, giving him time to process. his breathing quickened, but he didn’t protest, his hands gripping the edge of the seat as if it were the only thing grounding him.

kneeling before him, you looked up, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and trembling lips. he was beautiful in his vulnerability, his usual composure stripped away to reveal the raw, unguarded man beneath. your hands moved to the folds of his robes, fingers deft as you unfastened the fabric to reveal the source of his tension. his body responded to your touch, the evidence of his longing plain and unyielding.

you let your fingers trail along his length, exploring him with an almost reverent curiosity. he gasped at the contact, his hips jerking slightly as his hands gripped the bench tighter. “relax,” you whispered, your tone soothing as you leaned forward, your breath ghosting over him.

your lips brushed against him, tentative at first, testing his reaction. his entire body tensed before relaxing into the sensation, a low groan escaping his lips. encouraged, you took him further, your tongue tracing over his cock in deliberate, slow motions. you relished the way his breathing hitched, how his head tilted back, and the quiet murmurs of your name that spilt from his lips like a chant.

you kept your movements measured, savouring each reaction you drew from him. your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, complementing the rhythm of your lips as you alternated between soft, teasing touches and firmer strokes. his hips shifted slightly, his body seeking more of the pleasure you were so expertly offering.

“you feel incredible,” you murmured between motions, your voice low and filled with heat. your words seemed to drive him further into his haze, his fingers flexing against the bench as if he were trying to maintain control.

“i… i don’t…” he started, his voice trembling, but the words dissolved into a gasp as you shifted your angle, focusing your attention on the places that made him shudder the most. “please…” he whispered, his tone pleading, though even he didn’t seem certain of what he was asking for.

“i’ve got you,” you reassured him, your free hand reaching up to intertwine with his. the touch grounded him, his grip tightening as he surrendered completely to the sensations. you could feel the tension in his body building, the way his breathing grew more erratic, and the soft, desperate noises escaping his lips became more frequent.

but you didn’t rush. instead, you took your time, prolonging his pleasure as you explored every inch of him with your tongue and hands. the air was thick with the sounds of his laboured breaths and the quiet murmurs of your name. when you finally quickened your pace, it was with purpose, each movement calculated to push him closer to the edge while still holding him there, teetering in that delicious state of anticipation.

“you’re doing so well,” you praised, your voice like a soothing balm against the intensity of his experience. his entire body trembled under your touch, his head tilting back as he let out a broken moan.

finally, when you sensed he couldn’t hold back any longer, you pushed him over the edge, your movements unrelenting as you guided him through the climax. his release came in shuddering waves, his body arching as he let out a raw, unguarded groan. you stayed with him, your touch gentle as you eased him back down, your hand stroking soothing patterns along his thigh.

as his body stilled, you lowered your hand, brushing your fingers lightly against his tip. a glistening trace of him lingered on your skin, and before he could react, you brought your finger to your lips, letting your tongue dart out to taste him. the heat in his cheeks deepened, his breath catching audibly.

“what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and embarrassment.

a sly smile curved your lips. “tasting you,” you said simply, your tone carrying a playful edge. you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “you’re sweeter than i expected.”

his jaw slackened, and he swallowed hard, his fingers tightening their grip on the bench as if he weren’t sure what to do with himself. “i… i didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice tinged with wonder.

you reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face, your touch lingering. “there’s a lot you don’t know, ominis,” you teased gently. “but i’m more than happy to teach you.”

when it was over, he slumped against the wall, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. you sat back on your heels, watching him with a soft smile as you adjusted his robes back into place, your fingers lingering briefly on his trembling hands. his cheeks were still flushed, his expression a mix of exhaustion and wonder as he turned his sightless gaze in your direction.

“thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but sincere.

you reached out again, this time cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “anytime, ominis,” you replied, your voice gentle but laced with a promise. the connection between you, once unspoken, now felt undeniable.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

[viimsical]

h. gaunt and s. ellwood, 1912, preparations for a ball

(save their poor hearts)

[wrengaunt]

POV : You’re meeting Ominis Gaunt at a Pureblood families’ meeting

Kinda in a drawing slump, so I drew what I love the most… blouses ! But I kept thinking it would suit Ominis so much… So I just decided to put his head on it 🤷🏻‍♀️

[farmazgony]

WELL i have a new brainrot and it’s gauntwood from „In Memoriam” by Alice Winn, so here’s some small silly doodle with them

(im going feral)

[cafechichay]

Chapter 1 | Between Mercy & Malice

Pairing - Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 4945

Content Warning - Lack of formatting? (someone help I beg) Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pain, Spiralling!Sebastian Sallow, Endearing Nicknames, Flashbacks, Ominis would burn down the world for you (and I love it), This is literally so self indulgent (I love yearning men)

Summary - Trapped in Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium, you, Ominis Gaunt, and Sebastian Sallow are forced to make an unforgivable choice—one that will leave scars far deeper than magic itself.

Author's Summary; my version of getting to Slytherin's Scriptorium, but with a bit more angst. Chapter 1 of 4 (maybe)

A.N. - I stopped writing years ago, but I don't see enough love for my boy Ominis. I'm an Ominis-girly through and through. I have an idea of how this ends but we'll also see how I feel lol. Please review/comment - they feed my motivation. Also I did write this instead of my thesis so like pls let me know if it was actually worth it

====================================

The air was heavy. Thick with dust and something far worse.

It curled in your throat, the scent of rot lingering long after you had already taken your next breath. The walls of the Scriptorium stretched high above, their looming presence pressing down like unseen hands, and yet somehow, the space still felt suffocatingly small. The light from your wand barely reached beyond a few feet, casting long, flickering shadows that made the darkness seem alive.

The silence was deafening.

And then you saw her.

Aunt Noctua’s remains lay crumpled before the sealed door, her bony fingers still outstretched toward salvation that never came. Her tattered robes, once fine, were stiff with age, pooled around her skeletal frame in a final, undignified heap.

Your stomach twisted.

But it wasn’t just her remains that caught your attention—it was what surrounded them.

The word Crucio had been carved into the stone, deep enough that the grooves were still sharp despite time’s best efforts to wear them away. It was jagged, uneven—done with a shaking hand.

And beside her, a wand.

Snapped in two. The broken edges blackened and burnt. A sign of how many times she had tried. How many times she had forced herself to endure.

And still, it had not been enough.

A breath hitched beside you.

Ominis.

His face was unreadable, but his cloudy eyes—usually so guarded—gave him away. A deep crease had formed between his brows, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. His pale irises, though sightless, moved as if trying to chase away the horrible images forming in his mind. His fingers twitched at his sides.

Sebastian stepped forward, his boots scraping against the stone. His gaze lingered on Noctua’s remains for only a moment before flicking toward the door. His expression hardened.

“So, this is it,” he murmured. “This is what happened to her.”

“She died here, Sebastian.” Ominis’ voice was quiet, but there was a tremor beneath it.

Sebastian didn’t look disturbed. He barely even looked concerned. “And do you know why?” His gaze flickered back to the word on the ground. “She hesitated. She wasted time. That’s why she—”

“That’s why what?” Ominis’ voice was razor-sharp.

Sebastian hesitated—only for a fraction of a second. “That’s why she didn’t make it,” he said, but something about the way he spoke made your skin crawl.

Ominis turned his head slightly. His expression darkened. “You pity her.” The words weren’t a question.

Sebastian scoffed. “I don’t—”

“You think she was weak.” Ominis’ breath came faster, something fraying at the edges of his composure. “You look at her, and you see someone who should have just gotten on with it, don’t you?”

Sebastian frowned. “Ominis—”

“Say it,” Ominis demanded, stepping forward. “Say what you’re really thinking.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw.

You could see the war in his head. He wanted to deny it. He knew he should deny it. But he didn’t believe it.

Ominis let out a slow, humourless laugh. “You’re disgusting.”

Sebastian’s expression flickered. Just for a second.

Then his face hardened. “I’m disgusting? You’re the one pretending she had a choice!” His voice was rising now, sharp with frustration. He gestured toward the word carved into the ground. “This was the way out. She knew it. And she still couldn’t do it.”

“Because she wasn’t a monster like you!” Ominis snapped.

The words cracked like a whip.

Sebastian’s expression darkened. His eyes held something dangerous, something wrong. His grip on his wand twitched.

“You’d rather we rot down here with her?” His voice dropped, quieter now, but far more dangerous. “You’d rather let Anne suffer, too?”

Ominis inhaled sharply.

You turned to Sebastian—really looked at him.

He was different. Paler. Sharper. His eyes were darker than they should have been, and there was something unsettling in the way he gripped his wand—his fingers twitching, restless.

Something was changing in him.

And Ominis saw it, too. He was gripping his own wand tightly, his knuckles pale. But he said nothing.

Sebastian took another step forward, closing the space between them. “I’m not going to let her suffer because you have a problem with what needs to be done.”

Ominis exhaled sharply through his nose. His shoulders rose—tensed—then, suddenly, he let out a slow breath.

The anger in his face faded.

Not into acceptance.

Into resignation.

“Fine,” he said.

Sebastian blinked. “Fine?”

Ominis straightened, tilting his chin up. “We cast it.”

A beat of silence.

Then, slowly, Sebastian smirked. “Finally. You’re—”

“But you will not touch her.”

Sebastian’s smirk faltered. His gaze flickered to you, then back to Ominis.

Ominis stepped closer. “You will curse me.”

Your breath hitched. “Ominis—”

His head turned slightly toward you. His brows furrowed, something tightening in his jaw. “I won’t let you take it.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply. “And you refuse cast it.”

“Exactly.” Ominis squared his shoulders. “That’s why you will do it. And you will listen to me. You will do it properly.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I know how to—”

“No, you don’t.” Ominis’ voice cut through the space like ice. “If you don’t mean it, it won’t work. If you hesitate, it will be worse.” He exhaled, voice dropping lower. “If you do it wrong, Merlin knows if you’ll be able to do it again.”

Sebastian didn’t respond.

Ominis took another breath. His hands trembled at his sides, but he didn’t step back.

“Do it right the first time.”

Sebastian lifted his wand.

Your heart pounded. You stepped forward before you even realized it. “Wait—”

Ominis turned sharply. “Stay out of this.”

You froze.

His expression was unreadable now, his pale eyes like ghostly embers in the dim light. His hands were still shaking.

But not from fear.

He was bracing himself.

Sebastian hesitated for only a second.

Then—

"Crucio."

====================================

You didn’t think.

You just did.

Before either of them could stop you, before Ominis could say another word, you threw yourself forward—toward him.

It was a desperate, instinctual movement. The force of it made your heart race as you curled your body around his, pushing him back with your arms, shielding him with your body—your back preparing to take the curse.

“Wait!” Ominis’ voice cracked, panicked and desperate, but it was too late.

Your eyes were already fixed on Ominis.

Sebastian hestitated. The curse shot from his wand with a violent crack.

The air itself seemed to bend, contort, twist around the curse as it rocketed toward you. The sound of it hitting the air was deafening—like a whip cracking, followed by a deep, unnerving hum of raw, unrelenting power.

But something was wrong.

The curse didn’t feel right.

The red lightning that arced from Sebastian’s wand was jagged—unnatural. It flickered in violent, erratic patterns, crackling around the room like it was searching for something to latch onto, something to devour.

It was more than just wrong. It was dangerous.

And then, in a flash of agonizing pain, it slammed into your back.

Your body seized.

It felt like the bones in your spine were being ripped out one by one. The pain spread, deep and searing, until every muscle in your body was burning. Your breath caught in your throat, suffocating you. It was like your entire body had been set alight from the inside, but the fire wasn’t the kind that could burn away your pain—it was the kind that tore you apart, piece by piece.

You couldn’t scream.

Your lungs refused to work.

The pain was suffocating. It pulled every breath from your body, leaving nothing but raw, unrelenting agony.

Your vision blurred. Every edge of your sight frayed and split, and the world seemed to distort around you.

But it was the sound that cut the deepest—the sound of your own voice, trying to scream, but only a horrible, strangled cry escaping your lips.

Ominis shouted something, but his voice was lost in the crackling chaos around you.

You could hear nothing but the storm that raged inside your chest, the writhing agony in your spine, the sickeningly sharp pain that seemed to dig deeper with every pulse of the curse.

Sebastian’s intent was wrong—too strong.

You felt the wrongness in every electric current that shot through your body.

Your back arched as if you were being pulled in two, the pain pulling you taut like a bowstring. The curse writhed, unrelenting, twisting deeper, tearing your insides apart with each vicious shock that sent ripples of red lightning across your vision. The crackling of the curse itself seemed to snap and crackle, like an unnatural storm roaring above you. It was as though the curse was alive—hunting you, tearing through you with no mercy, with no end.

You barely noticed Ominis’ frantic, shaking hands reaching for you, his fingers brushing against your arm. His touch was like fire, his body trembling violently with the effort to pull you away from the curse that was consuming you.

But it wasn’t enough.

The agony surged again, more intense than before, sending you collapsing forward, barely managing to keep yourself upright. Your entire body felt hollow. Numb. But the pain... the pain was far from over. It kept coming, wave after wave of agony so intense it felt like your body was splitting apart.

Your heart hammered. Your body screamed for mercy that would never come.

And still, Sebastian didn’t stop.

His expression was twisted, consumed by the power he had unleashed. His face was a grimace of frustration, his eyes locked on you—his focus now entirely on you, his rage growing with every second the curse refused to let go.

“Sebastian! Stop!” Ominis shouted again, but his voice was lost to the air around them.

Sebastian’s hand clenched tighter around his wand, his voice muttering curses under his breath, as though he couldn’t hear Ominis’ plea. His grip on the wand tightened, and the curse continued to pulse through with a brutal shock.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The pressure inside you was unbearable, but Sebastian was too far gone—he was too consumed by his own anger and frustration, too deep in the darkness of the curse he had cast.

Ominis’ eyes widened in realization.

His lips twisted into something tight and furious, and with a single, furious motion, he cast Depulso.

The force of it hit Sebastian’s chest like a cannonball, sending him stumbling backward with a sharp gasp. His wand slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, his concentration shattering as his wide eyes locked onto Ominis.

“What the hell, Ominis?” Sebastian growled, his confusion clear, his face flushed with irritation.

But Ominis didn’t care. His breathing was heavy, his anger clearly evident.

“What the hell? What do you mean ‘what the hell’? You just—” Ominis’ voice was strained, choked with fury as he stepped forward. “You nearly killed her, Sebastian. You—”

Sebastian blinked, still disoriented by the sudden force of the spell. “I—what? I was trying to—”

But Ominis wasn’t listening anymore.

His hands were shaking as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms. “Don’t you ever—” he started, but his voice cracked. His anger softened, replaced by something almost like desperation. “Don’t you ever do something like that again.”

Sebastian didn’t move, standing there with his eyes wide in confusion, his breath still ragged from his outburst. “Ominis… I didn’t mean—”

Ominis didn’t respond. His focus was on you now, his hand gently brushing the hair from your face, his eyes wild and desperate as he cradled you against him.

Sebastian’s face fell, realization starting to set in. He had pushed too far; gone too far down a path he was already walking.

But Ominis didn’t care for the explanation.

He was angry. Furious. Furious at Sebastian for the reckless violence of it all, furious at him for the danger he had almost put you in.

And he wasn’t willing to let it slide.

====================================

The stone wall rumbled with a low, deep groan, and then the crackling of ancient magic reverberated through the room. The wall split with a sharp, jagged sound, and the heavy stone blocks moved apart, revealing the passageway to Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium. Dark, swirling shadows pulsed from the newly revealed entrance, as though the very air itself shuddered with the raw magic that lingered in this forbidden space.

Sebastian’s attention snapped immediately to the opening, his eyes narrowing with renewed determination. He began to step forward, but Ominis’ voice cut through the thick tension in the air like a whip.

“No.” The word was sharp, laced with a dangerous finality. His fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve, gripping tightly as though to keep you tethered to him. “We’re not going in there.”

Sebastian hesitated, confused. “What? We came here for this, Ominis. We’ve got to finish this. The Scriptorium is right there.”

Ominis’ breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with barely contained anger. He could hear the desperation in Sebastian’s voice, but it only made his stomach twist further. His pulse quickened as he glanced down at you, the pain still evident in your features, and he cursed under his breath. His voice shook, though he tried to mask it with force.

“You’ve done enough,” Ominis spat, his words sharp like the crack of a whip. His grip tightened around your arm, and he shifted closer to you, his fingers trembling slightly. The sight of you still reeling from the curse gnawed at him. The fury swirled inside him, growing with every second.

Then, you stirred—slightly, as if to push yourself up, to stand despite the searing pain still running through your body. You grimaced, trying to brush it off as if you were okay, but the effort failed you. A strangled grunt escaped your throat, and your hands clenched at your side. The force of the agony made tears spring to your eyes, a sob escaping before you could stop it. Your body shook, unable to bear the pressure of movement.

Ominis’ breath caught in his throat. His heart clenched at the sight of you trying to push through the pain. His expression twisted into something fierce, though it quickly softened as he moved closer, his hands steadying you.

“Don’t.” Ominis’ voice was rough, but it softened slightly as he worked to soothe you, his fingers brushing over your skin with a care that belied his rage. “You’re not going anywhere. You hear me?”

The touch of his hand on your forehead was almost too gentle for the force in his voice. His trembling fingers continued their delicate path across your skin, the contrast stark against the fury that burned behind his eyes. He could feel the raw heat of your pain beneath the cloth, and it only fuelled the fire inside him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he repeated, his words steady despite the storm raging inside him. “We’re not moving from here until you’re able.”

Sebastian, who had watched the exchange with growing concern, stepped forward once more, though his face was still clouded with confusion.

“I’m trying to help,” Sebastian said, his voice losing some of its earlier certainty, a bit of doubt creeping into his tone. He started to take a step forward, but Ominis immediately tensed.

“No,” Ominis snarled, his voice thick with barely contained fury. “You’re not helping, Sebastian. You’ve done enough.” His grip tightened around your arm, and he shifted closer to you, his fingers trembling slightly. The anger twisted within him, made more potent by his fear—fear of losing you, fear of what Sebastian’s recklessness had done to you.

He cast a quick glance at the newly opened stone doorway, his mind working furiously. He could feel the cold, oppressive magic of the scriptorium creeping through the air, but he couldn’t focus on that now. You needed him.

His hand snapped into his pocket, his fingers brushing over his handkerchief. With a muttered incantation, water erupted from the tip of his wand, and he quickly conjured a steady stream of it onto the fabric. Holding it against his trembling hand, he pressed the cool cloth to your forehead with a delicate touch.

Sebastian, watching from a distance, seemed to struggle with the unfolding situation. His brows furrowed, his lips pressing together in frustration. He opened his mouth to protest, but then his gaze flicked to the scriptorium again. The door, still open, seemed to beckon. There was no denying the pull of it, the promise of answers hidden within those darkened walls. But then his gaze slid back to Ominis—saw the fury in his posture, the raw emotion radiating from him. For the first time, a hint of uncertainty crossed his face.

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to compose himself. His voice dropped to something a little lighter, though the edge of urgency remained. “Hey, come on, you’ve got to admit, we’ve come this far. We can’t just turn back now, right?” He flashed a small, almost amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll help you, and we’ll sort this out together, yeah? The Scriptorium’s right there.”

He started to take a step closer to you, his hand outstretched, as though trying to coax you into moving with him, like nothing had happened. His tone was light, trying to make it sound easy—like you could simply walk into the scriptorium and leave the pain behind.

Before Sebastian could take another step, Ominis was already moving, quickly shifting from his position on the floor. His grip on your arm tightened, and with a forceful but careful motion, he lifted your head onto his rolled-up robe, using it as a cushion. His expression darkened as he placed himself in between you and Sebastian, his body tense, his blind eyes narrowing with barely concealed anger. His breath was shallow, his entire demeanour radiating a storm of emotion.

“You’re not going near her,” Ominis hissed, his voice dangerously low. His wand flicked, and its tip was aimed straight at Sebastian, a warning—sharp and unyielding.

Sebastian stared at Ominis for a long, tense moment, before smirking lightly. “Or else what?”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the wood. The tension in the air thickened, and his jaw clenched. He knew that if Sebastian pushed further, the situation would escalate beyond words, beyond warnings. The frustration—and something far more dangerous—radiated from Ominis as he stared down at Sebastian.

Ominis stepped forward, rising from his crouch, his body broad and solid despite his lean build. His height loomed over Sebastian, though the other boy was far more muscular. Still, Ominis had the advantage of reach and anger. His stance was one of quiet threat, every inch of his body vibrating with raw emotion. He towered over Sebastian, his blind eyes dark and sharp, betraying none of the hesitation that once might have softened his words.

His voice dropped low, the tension in his chest tight, his words a sharp warning. “Don’t ever try me again. You’ve done enough, Sebastian. Now stay the hell away from her.”

Sebastian’s face flickered with a mix of frustration and confusion. He took a half-step back, looking Ominis over, then back at the girl lying behind his friend. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his jaw tightened as he met Ominis’ unwavering gaze. He opened his mouth to retort but shut it again with a huff, clearly seeing that Ominis was beyond the point of reason.

Ominis didn’t give him another chance to argue. He stepped fully between Sebastian and you, his stance firm, his wand still held at the ready. “I won’t let you drag her into this any further,” he snarled, his voice trembling with the heat of anger. “Not while I’m still standing.”

The air was thick with tension as Ominis stared down at Sebastian, his wand unwavering. His gaze was a silent threat, an unspoken promise that anyone who tried to get closer to you would find themselves facing the full force of Ominis Gaunt’s fury.

Sebastian stared up at Ominis, unflinching, his eyes scanning the tall, lean figure of his friend—his once-trusted companion—who now stood between him and the girl they both cared about. His lips curled into a smirk, though there was no real humour in it. He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he took in the storm brewing in Ominis’ posture. The space between them felt thick, charged with something far more volatile than the air around them.

“Or else what?” Sebastian asked, his voice light, though there was a hint of sarcasm that laced his words, as though he didn’t take Ominis’ threat seriously. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back slightly, a mocking glint in his eyes, trying to mask the unease that was beginning to creep in. “You really think you can stop me? I’m your friend, Ominis. You think this is about you and me now? Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

Ominis didn’t move at first. His wand was steady, the tip pointed directly at Sebastian as though it were a warning, but it wasn’t just the wand. It was everything about Ominis: the tense, broad set of his shoulders, the slow, deliberate way he stepped forward. The anger was practically visible, swirling around him like a storm, but it was more than that—it was disappointment that clawed at Ominis’ insides. It made him feel sick. It made his heart ache with the need to protect you.

Sebastian’s smirk faltered slightly as Ominis took that step forward, towering over him despite the smaller, more solid frame of Sebastian. The two of them were different—Ominis was taller, leaner, his body not as physically imposing as Sebastian’s, but there was no doubt Ominis had the upper hand in sheer presence right now. His rage seemed to fill the space between them, suffocating and heavy.

Sebastian let out a small, sarcastic laugh, though it lacked the bite it might’ve had just moments ago. He shifted slightly on his feet, clearly trying to read Ominis, sizing him up, as if searching for a way to defuse the tension or maybe to call his bluff.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian said, his tone still light but now laced with a touch of defiance. “You think you can just stand there and stop me because I’ve upset you?” He raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that it? Ominis Gaunt, the one who always plays it so carefully, so calmly... suddenly making threats?”

The air between them crackled with rising tension as Ominis didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact. The depth of his silence spoke volumes, and Sebastian could feel the shift in the atmosphere—something darker, something more dangerous. He was still sizing Ominis up, but there was a distinct shift in his own stance now, his feet planted firmly. He was calculating, watching for any sign of hesitation. Still, he refused to be intimidated, refusing to show weakness.

But Ominis was unwavering. He took another step, his voice low, dangerous, vibrating with emotion. “Don’t.” It was more of a growl than a word. “You’ve done enough already, Sebastian.”

Sebastian's confident façade cracked just slightly. He was used to being the one in control, the one who took risks and challenged anyone who stood in his way. But there was something about the way Ominis stood, his posture firm, his blind eyes dark with something like fury that made Sebastian falter—just for a moment.

Still, Sebastian’s smirk didn’t disappear entirely. He was used to the tension, to the games they played, but this... this felt different. The intensity in Ominis’ gaze, the way the wand trembled ever so slightly in his hand—Sebastian could feel the rawness of it, the bite of the anger that Ominis had been holding back for far too long.

“You’re still my friend, Ominis,” Sebastian said, his voice softer now, but the sarcasm remained. He half-expected Ominis to lash out, to say something cruel, to give in to the storm within him—but Ominis didn’t. He just stood there, staring at him with such intensity that it felt like a challenge.

The silence between them grew, thickening with every passing moment. Sebastian felt his heart rate pick up slightly, though he didn’t let it show. He could tell Ominis was no longer just angry. There was something else—something more desperate, more personal. It was the same rage he’d seen in his friend’s eyes when something mattered so much, when it threatened the very core of what they’d once shared.

But Sebastian wasn’t backing down. He stood his ground, meeting Ominis’ unyielding gaze with a spark of defiance in his own eyes. He wanted to say more, to press Ominis to understand that they couldn’t just stop, but there was something in the way Ominis’ body was now squared against him—something in the air that made Sebastian pause, just for a moment. The tension was suffocating, a silent battle between their wills, between their understanding of what needed to happen next.

And then Ominis spoke again, his voice calm but dripping with authority.

“Stay the hell away from her,” he said, his voice low but filled with conviction. “You’re not needed here anymore, Sebastian.”

It was a threat, sure, but it was also an ultimatum. The meaning was clear. Ominis wasn’t about to let Sebastian anywhere near you, not while you were in this state, not while he could feel every fibre of his being screaming to keep you safe.

Sebastian didn’t move for a long moment, his gaze flicking over Ominis, reading him as if searching for weakness. But there was none to find. Instead, there was only the raw intensity in Ominis’ stance, the surety in his voice. And for the first time, Sebastian realized that Ominis wasn’t bluffing. There was no hesitation anymore. This wasn’t the same Ominis who had kept quiet and followed Sebastian’s lead. This was someone who was willing to fight for you—someone who had already decided where his loyalty lay.

Sebastian swallowed hard, but he didn’t back down. His smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked... unsure. A brief flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

The silence between them grew, and Sebastian, ever the one to break it with barbed words, leaned in slightly, his voice lighter, but with that unmistakable edge of provocation. “Once a Gaunt, always a Gaunt, right?” He let out a small, dry chuckle, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “All that noble blood running through your veins—just like them. It’s no surprise you’d turn out like this, is it? Condescending, self-righteous, always looking down on the rest of us.”

The words stung, though Sebastian’s voice was too casual for it to seem like anything more than a jab—one that had been waiting to be thrown for some time. His eyes were fixed on Ominis, watching for any sign of a reaction. He knew how to push, how to prod, how to expose the cracks beneath the surface of a person who had been raised with such heavy expectations. Ominis’ family wasn’t just a name—it was a curse, and Sebastian knew it, could see it written in every movement, every word Ominis had ever said.

But Ominis didn’t flinch. Not yet. His grip on his wand tightened, his hand shaking ever so slightly, though his posture remained unnervingly calm.

Sebastian took another step forward, his eyes glittering with that old sense of challenge. “Or are you just trying to surpress the Gaunt in you? Trying to protect the helpless one, because your family would never let you do anything else. Always playing the saviour, aren’t you? Always overcompensating for something rooted deep into you.”

Ominis’ breath hitched slightly, his jaw tightening at the insinuation. His hands clenched into fists, the weight of the accusation sinking into his chest. He could feel the blood rushing to his ears, the heat of anger rising in him like a wave.

But it was more than anger now. It was something else, something deeper. Something born from the years of having that name pressed upon him, of carrying the weight of what his family stood for. The endless expectations. The suffocating belief that he was meant for something darker. And now, here was Sebastian—poking at the old wounds, making it sting once more.

“I’m nothing like them,” Ominis muttered, his voice low, barely above a whisper. But there was a steeliness behind it now, a promise. “I won’t be like them.”

The tension between them thickened, wrapping around both of them like an invisible barrier, each word adding more weight to the words that had been left unspoken for far too long.

Sebastian’s lips twisted into a smirk, his words sharper now, digging deeper. “Sure, Ominis. Keep telling yourself that. But in the end, you’re just as much a Gaunt as they were.”

Ominis’ grip tightened on his wand, and he took a step forward, the movement slow but deliberate, his body a line of unyielding tension. “You know nothing about me,” he ground out, every word laced with fury.

Sebastian paused, a small flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he didn’t back down. “Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “But I’ve seen enough to know where your loyalties lie.”

next chapter

[heylorrain]

Marvolo Gaunt - Ominis Gaunt - Lorrain M. Gaunt

I became a sacrificed lamb to her every whim.

From "In another Life"

[wh40kgallery]

Tyranids Vs Astra Militarum

by Thomas Elliott

[erichthaxa]

[yoshitsuno]

God, I love this illustration! I still can't believe I've managed to draw an illustration like that, when I've never been able to really manage the backgrounds before. I guess being in this fandom has helped me improve ❤

A huge thank you to speedgriffon who has given me incredible confidence for her illustrations and I hope I'll be able to do the same for the second commission she's given me, this time with Sebastian ❤

You can find this illustration in the new chapter from speedgriffon's I Know Places -> Hitchen's Estate

[trappezoider]

Hurt/comfort my beloved

[meizze-art]

"I show not your face but your heart's desire"

Ominis senses his aunt Noctua Gaunt in the Mirror of Erised

[monyokami]

🫖Do you want a cup of tea?

[snapesmorningcoffee]

Tom Riddle, receiving the Award for Outstanding Service to the School after killing Moaning Myrtle and pinning the murder on Hagrid: